


Adjusting the Scope

by xladysaya



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Assassins AU, M/M, also this is insanely cheesy like...pls don't hurt me, bc...assassins, sarumi anthology, slight mention of guns and violence, very minor tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-17 22:06:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9348506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xladysaya/pseuds/xladysaya
Summary: He knew that voice anywhere. He craved it in fact, and the longing for it tended to be a most deadly distractor at various points of the day. Never had he imagined to actually hear it on a mission. Somehow, even if he had…it probably wouldn’t have involved him crouched under a crate waiting to kill the owner of said voice.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Helloooo! *_* So, this fic was originally written for the 2016 Sarumi Anthology from July, but we weren't allowed to post it until now! I hope everyone who didn't get to read it enjoys it, thank you so much for reading! This is obviously my older writing as well so, pls forgive me for that lmaooo

He’d already zeroed the scope.

Honestly, guns were so annoying, especially sniper rifles. The elevation knob had to be accordingly adjusted to allow for some inaccuracies without totally missing the target. Then of course there was actually positioning the damn thing, which always changed based on the particular rifle he was using.

Saruhiko hated guns. They were loud, sometimes heavy, and having to adjust to each and every one’s different specs whenever he needed one for a job was time consuming and irritating. His boss usually kept his preferences in mind, giving Saruhiko more ‘close range’ jobs or targets that lived alone, so he could take them out more efficiently with his knives. Resorting to guns was truly a last option for Saruhiko, but the client had been specific; make it a quick job, no direct contact. And with many of his coworkers out on other assignments or suffering from injuries, Saruhiko had been the only one available.

Not that Saruhiko wasn’t skilled with whatever weapon he was given, but guns were so obnoxiously violent and loud they gave him a headache, and the traditional stealth and grace of a knife was preferable to him.

Not for everyone unfortunately…

He smiled fondly, despite the grimness of the situation. He was positioned up on a tall building, the highest he could find that was not surrounded by apartment buildings or other structures with windows. Witnesses were…difficult to deal with.

The rooftop was dingy and littered with trash, a bit out of character for the wealthy neighborhood he was in. Oh well, it made it less likely that someone would find him. Even still, he’d bolted the rooftop door shut.

There was a light breeze, and Saruhiko clicked his tongue, factoring the change into the rifle’s positioning. He had it on a stand, but even that was proving to be troublesome, so he lifted it, supporting it fully in his own slender arms with a mild grunt. He held it steady, grace and still in his posture as he waited.

Below him, an outdoor gala was being held on a lower roof, filled with city officials and prominent families. They were all scattered throughout the bright green lawn at the top of the building, some hanging around the buffet table, others enjoying the open bar. It was the stereotypical high class get together, people conversing and chirping about happily, tight smiles refusing to leaves the clean, retouched faces.

Luckily, the target was sitting, occasionally entertaining those who came by to speak to him. That was what Saruhiko was waiting for. Killing those who weren’t targets, especially innocents, was largely frowned upon in his organization. In fact, Scepter 4 usually only dealt with mob bosses or hardcore criminals, almost vigilante in its actions. On the rare occasions in which the target was a prominent person, intensive research would be done by the team to decide if the person’s elicit behaviors were truly worth punishing so harshly.

Ah, but yes, it’d been decided. Without him too, as a matter of fact, making the reality of his current position even more annoying. Saruhiko had been on a date when the verdict had been made, yet he’d still been stuck with the job.

Whatever. Point was, the official in question was a prominent businessman known for abusing his workers, letting them go without proper compensation, working them excessive hours, and even causing several deaths due to hazardous working conditions they were forced to undertake. It was all very bleak to Saruhiko, and while cruel, it was not uncommon for higher ups to employ such underhanded methods to save a few bucks.

Still, once his boss Munakata had caught wind of the story, the older man’s sensitivities and sense of justice were activated, and that was that.

The last few people crowded around the businessman were starting to drift away, and Saruhiko inhaled sharply. This was it.

He removed the safety of the rifle, the soft clinking of it now suddenly audible from the brief pause in the wind. Perfect.

He brought the rifle up, swallowing once as he squinted, every calibration running through his head so as to avoid any mishaps. The man was laughing in his crosshairs. Saruhiko had done this plenty of times, but Munakata always said there was no use in getting arrogant. Still, the impending sense of victory was coursing through him. Saruhiko took in another breath, then held it…1…2…

His finger ghosted over the trigger, and—

A shot rang out, and after the usual moment of suspended silence, the convention below seemed to erupt in chaos as eccentric gala suits and gown were splattered with crimson. It was over that quick, yet it looked as if the horror show was only beginning as people trampled each other, trying to get to the rooftop stairs to flee, as if they too were in danger. Saruhiko grunted from the way the music abruptly stopped, the strings of instruments butchering notes as their musicians dropped them to take cover. Men fled every which way, women searched for loved ones in the pandemonium. All the while, the victim’s blood continued to pour, staining the fake, groomed grass below and mixing with the spilled alcohol of the night.

So, the usual, and no less than what Saruhiko would have expected on any normal event such as this. The only issue was, the shot hadn’t come from him.

The world slowed down as all the senses in his body went to high alert, and the screams below him were instantly drowned out in his mind, his whole being now waiting for any sign of another presence. Saruhiko dove for the nearest statue, pure instinct driving him as he found cover and reached for his knives. He’d made sure to masterfully take apart his snipper rifle in a matter of seconds, deft hands pulling the weapon apart and kicking the pieces in different directions before he had fled from his earlier position. At least whoever was with him wouldn’t be able to use it against him, assuming the attacker didn’t have a more appropriate and fully functioning close range weapon already. Like hell would Saruhiko die from his own gun, no matter how improbable it was. He grabbed the backpack he’d brought with him too as he ducked away, knowing some stuff in there would help if he really got into a fight.

He replayed the events in his head, slowing them down so he could see all the gruesome details. They didn’t bother him anymore. The shot had been a success, the target was neutralized. The blood had flown quite quickly, almost excessively, telling Saruhiko that the gunmen hadn’t hit in the ‘correct’ place. Not that it mattered, dead was dead, but to Saruhiko, it meant the gunmen was a bit sloppier, if not inexperienced with the weapon.

There were sirens in the distance now, but even then, Saruhiko expected them to be just a few minutes behind due to the rush hour traffic. Just enough time for him to leave, had this predicament not stupidly unfolded.

Saruhiko allowed himself a frustrated sigh, what were the odds someone else would take the liberty of killing this guy? On the same day? He felt the strong urge to slap himself, maybe it would all be a dream, an annoyingly vivid dream, and he’d wake up in the sheets with—

The roof’s door was shot open.

Saruhiko tensed, silently diving from the statue to flatten himself against the nearest wall, baring a few knives from his harness in preparation as he slunk down behind some abandoned crates. He’d already mapped out a route in his head if the other assassin had a gun, which was now an affirmative. Saruhiko would use the statues as leverage to hop onto the roof of the staircase, it would be harder to shoot him up there, but easy for Saruhiko to hear where the assassin was, and time an effective blow. He just had to figure out where the other was at the moment…

There’d been no other sound from the doorway, meaning the assassin had most likely paused to survey his surroundings. Rookie move for someone who had made such a difficult shot, but Saruhiko figured hey, someone could do whatever they wanted as long as they were prepared.

This person was either too arrogant or too carefree.

Saruhiko heard the scuff of a shoe, and yeah, the other had definitely rounded the corner, heading in Saruhiko’s direction. Damn.

Despite the commotion of a few arriving police cars and screaming below, Saruhiko felt like his world had gone silent, only aware of his own existence and this person’s. Assassins normally wouldn’t clash, but there were always rogues, those not part of organizations, and some had no qualms about killing. Barbarians. _They’d be better off in prisons_ , he remembers Seri, his partner, telling him once, jaw tense and eyes clouded.

He’d never encountered one before, and today was a lousy day to start. He had to make it to dinner in three hours too…

The shadow cast nearby showed the assassin shouldering a gun, a sniper rifle probably, a bit difficult to maneuver at close range but better than nothing.

_Well, if you were fighting anyone other than me that is._

Saruhiko smirked, getting ready to leap forward and pierce the other’s open chest, when he heard an annoyingly familiar voice cuss as the assassin tripped over some debris.

_You’re not serious…_

Saruhiko froze, seconds away from unleashing a barrage of sharpened steel. A multitude of possibilities went through his head. He’d been hearing things maybe, or perhaps it was one of those more technologically advanced organizations, what with the voice manipulators. Saruhiko kept his private life pretty under wraps, but that didn’t mean there was zero chance someone could’ve found out about…peculiar weaknesses.

Right, he could go on with his attack…this was nothing but—

“Fuckin’ shit!”

Yeah, no. He knew that voice anywhere. He craved it in fact, and the longing for it tended to be a most deadly distractor at various points of the day. Never had he imagined to actually hear it on a mission. Somehow, even if he had…it probably wouldn’t have involved him crouched under a crate waiting to kill the owner of said voice.

Saruhiko huffed, loudly too, because it truly didn’t matter anymore. He heard the other sputter, and the telltale sound of a weapon falling onto the floor accidentally, soon accompanied by obvious fumbling as the assassin tried to pick it back up.

_Oh Misaki…_

Saruhiko hid his knives away, a fond smile finding a way onto his face despite the annoying situation.

“O-oi! I know you’re there! Come out before I blow you away!”

Tempting, if he was gonna phrase it like that…

Saruhiko clicked his tongue before he stood up, mockingly putting his hands up as if in surrender, expression flat. “You really talk too much, I could’ve killed you any number of times during all your fumbling.”

There was a three second beat of silence, during which various emotions swept through Misaki’s eyes. The first was the obvious shock and suspicion, Misaki’s brain processing what he was seeing, trying to reach the conclusion that ah yes, it’s Saruhiko. The second, and one that had Saruhiko’s breath catching, was the usual sparkle which instinctively came whenever Misaki saw Saruhiko, a loving, pleasantly surprised glow in those amber pools which, in any other situation, would propel Saruhiko forward into those waiting arms. The third, a look Saruhiko had become oh so familiar with on the handsome face, was anger.

“W-what the hell did you say?!” Misaki glared fiercely, but the effect of the look was ruined by the sniper rifle on the redhead’s shoulder falling again. “Goddamnit!”

Saruhiko let his hands fall, shaking his head as Misaki moved to heft the weapon over his shoulder.

“Wow, I can tell you r _eally_ know how to use that,” Saruhiko quipped, delight coursing through him when Misaki’s eyes fixed on him again, a shiver running up the taller’s body from the giddiness. It wasn’t his fault, he’d been busy. Saruhiko hadn’t been able to see Misaki in over a week thanks to background checks and other work involving this job. Having those eyes on him…he couldn’t stand it.

“S-shut up! I was the only person available okay? I don’t usually use these pieces of crap,” Misaki mumbled, light flush spreading over his face, most likely becoming aware of the starved look in Saruhiko’s eyes.

It was true though, despite his interest in fighting games and action movies, Misaki wasn’t a big fan of guns either, and used them even less than Saruhiko. Not to say he _couldn’t_ use them, but, well…

Misaki would rather beat something up, preferably with a bat or a stick. In fact, Saruhiko wouldn’t be surprised if Misaki had a baton or other blunt weapon with him in his own backpack.

Whatever, Saruhiko could care less right then.

He crossed the measly twenty feet distance between them, and he saw Misaki’s shoulders relax, body fully ready and trusting to accept Saruhiko’s touch. The realization was gratifying.

Saruhiko brought his hands up to caress Misaki’s face, resisting the urge to go straight in for a kiss. They were alone, but Misaki had the power to intoxicate him to the point where he didn’t think clearly, and doing anything questionable on a rooftop while chaos wracked the streets below…not a good idea.

Instead, Saruhiko buried his face in Misaki’s neck, breathing in deeply. Misaki smelled clean, like he’d actually afforded himself some time to take a shower before the mission, unlike Saruhiko. He must’ve been staying at a hotel though, because the scent of the body wash was different from the one they shared at home, more plain and cheap but still mixing nicely with Misaki’s own, enticing aroma.

Misaki’s hands came up fast, circling around Saruhiko’s waist tightly as if trying to clutch him as close as possible, nudging his face into the taller’s chest while Saruhiko began peppering innocent kisses along Misaki’s neck. It was kind of amusing, what with Saruhiko trying to bend down and access more skin while Misaki made it more difficult for him by pressing closer, trying to feel along Saruhiko’s entire body with the haphazard embrace.

Chuckling, Saruhiko applied more force with his hands, which were still cradling Misaki’s head, effectively pulling him away enough so their eyes could meet. Misaki’s gaze held a love drunk quality, and Saruhiko couldn’t help but steal a chaste kiss before re-establishing the distance, holding back Misaki from chasing after him.

Misaki looked displeased, but chose to lean into Saruhiko’s hand instead, gripping it with his own as he buried his face into it. “Hey asshole,” the redhead whispered, shooting a lazy grin up at his boyfriend. “What are you doing here?”

“Hm, not happy to see me?” The teasing note in Saruhiko’s tone was enough to make Misaki huff irritably, despite the still apparent flush on his face.

“I’m getting there,” Misaki shot back, pulling Saruhiko’s hands away reluctantly. “Seriously though idiot! Scepter 4 decided it wasn’t taking this job! You guys gave it to Homra!”

Saruhiko clicked his tongue, still refusing to completely relinquish Misaki, one of his hands reaching out to clutch the edge of the other’s sweatshirt. Honestly, not the best attire for these kinds of things…

“No, we said we _were_ taking the job after all. I sent the report to you and everything,” Saruhiko drawled, running a still tense hand through his hair. “Blame whoever goes through your guys’ paperwork.”

Misaki’s choked sputtering was the only thing to break the answering silence. Saruhiko quirked an eyebrow, torn between being thoroughly unimpressed and amused.

“It’s you. You were supposed to go through the paperwork, weren’t you?”

“…No.”

Saruhiko pinched the bridge of his nose, but a fond smile still found its way onto his face. “Misaki…how disorganized is Homra that _you’re_ doing the reports?”

“D-Dewa was sick okay?! Shut up,” Misaki muttered, kicking at the ground like a disgruntled kid.

_Ah, so that’s why._

Maybe Homra was shorthanded too. After all, Misaki rarely did missions like this anyways, more accustomed to ground attacks and interrogations. He didn’t exactly get the chance to ask though, because the telltale sound of a news helicopter drowned out his question. It was at that moment Saruhiko decided idle time was over, and he felt Misaki tense against him as well, instincts kicking in at the same time as the taller’s.

They both dove for the crates, already exchanging a look between each other and the roof’s door, weighing the risks of fleeing through such a direct route.

“No choice,” Saruhiko said, voice all authority now. “The other buildings are too far to swing to.”

“Maybe for you—”

“ _Misaki_.” _Honestly_ , Saruhiko thought, _now isn’t the time to be reckless._ They’d already stayed around the crime scene too long.

Misaki groaned in frustration, simultaneously taking apart his own weapon for easier carry. Saruhiko looked at the scattered bits of his own, wondering if they were worth picking up. There would be no fingerprints, no purchase records to trace, but the weapon was expensive and Fuse would surely be on him if he left behind another weapon.

Misaki made the decision for him though, racing along the wall until he’d successfully made it down the stairs, out of site.

_Guess getting the rifle is a no then._

Saruhiko followed, taking advantage of the shadows afforded to him by the large statues and crates on the roof, masterfully gliding to the broken door and disappearing down the stairs just as the helicopter above turned towards the rooftop.

Misaki was waiting for him, foot tapping with anxiety and urgency as he opened a window. Saruhiko glared, jogging forward to peer out of the building.

“Misaki, I told you it’s too—”

_Ah, this window faces the alleyway, which means…_

“Bastard! I know that! But we can scale down!” Misaki was already pulling out his grappling gun, hitting one of the three buttons so the rope would retract completely. He hooked the spiked edge onto the sill, strong hands gripping the rope as he cautiously stepped outside the window. Saruhiko’s stomach churned against his will, the molded wood the hook was hanging on wasn’t exactly comforting in nature. They didn’t have a choice though, and Saruhiko shot his lover a nod, not bothering to tell him to be careful. From the hesitation in Misaki’s face, it appeared he already knew.

“W-well are you coming?” Misaki asked, hanging out the window and ready to start his descent.

“I have my own,” Saruhiko replied, pulling out a more compact version of Misaki’s gun out of his pack. “It’s the newer model too, better than your outdated crap.”

“Fuck yo—”

“Hurry up!”

Misaki glared, but didn’t protest, instead quickly dropping down the few stories he needed to until he was one the floor. He retracted the roping again, then beckoned for Saruhiko to hurry up.

Giving one dissatisfied look to his own grappling gun, Saruhiko followed, quickly landing below beside Misaki with a bit more grace than the redhead had. As he was putting the gun away and checking his surroundings, he gave one last annoyed look at the item. Honestly, he thought having the things would be useless, they seemed so childish, like something out of a spy movie. He’d be getting a lot of shit for this from Enomoto later…

“Saruhiko c’mon!” Misaki’s voice snapped him out of his reverie, and the taller trotted after him, down the alleyway and onto a less busy street. In theory, they didn’t look suspicious. Just some civilians, maybe late college students due to their backpacks, but otherwise they blended in fine. However, Saruhiko knew it was never good to hang around the murder scene, since Police were quick to pick any suspects that looked even remotely suspicious….and even some that didn’t.

He didn’t like being out in the open anyhow, especially while holding a pack stuffed with illegal items. At least he only carried what was necessary, he didn’t even want to think about what Misaki had in his…

“We should go to the library,” Saruhiko said casually. Misaki looked at him, perplexed momentarily until his eyes brightened.

“O-oh right!”

The library was usually code for an old, abandoned building or hideaway present in every city. Any major city at least, and each hideout was selected by the leaders of Homra and Scepter 4 in the event of emergency situations, or in the case any of the assassins needed a place to plan things out. Saruhiko used them often whenever he couldn’t reserve a hotel, usually for more undercover missions. Every few years, the location of ‘the library’ would change, just to make sure no one would start to suspect.

In this city, ‘the library’ was a large, crumbling hotel from decades before. The restoration of it had been discontinued, so it looked as if it was being renovated, what with the caution tape and old construction tools still littered around. Disgusting. It was his least favorite out of all the bunkers.

At that moment it was a relief though, and he and Misaki went in through a secret hatch, one slightly below ground level, and made their way up to a room on the second story. Saruhiko estimated a thirty minute wait time at least…

Saruhiko and Misaki walked down the halls side by side, monitoring each other’s blind spots in the case someone had infiltrated the place. There was no one though, but Saruhiko never fully let his guard down until he was sealed off in a room.

Entering the fifth room down, knife drawn, Saruhiko wretched from the stuffy, mildew like smell that invaded his nose full force. He couldn’t help but cough, the room was ancient, damp and unventilated.

He put his knife away, no way had anyone been in there recently. Misaki didn’t seem to mind the smell much at the moment, and as Saruhiko tried to remember what clean air felt like, the redhead walked towards the messy twin bed with purpose.

Misaki collapsed, exhausted from the episode of stress, plopping onto the bed with a relieved sigh. He wasn’t used to fleeing, and the city wasn’t familiar to him. The shorter was sitting up, and it was clear to Saruhiko the redhead was clearly trying not to lay back and submit to his tiredness.

Actually, Misaki did have noticeable bags under his eyes, Saruhiko hadn’t noticed them before. They weren’t as prominent as his own, but the evidence of Misaki’s weariness had Saruhiko’s hands twitching, desperate to reach out and offer some sort of comfort.

They were together now, just the two of them, something Saruhiko had been waiting a week for. It felt unreal, like a dream almost. But no, the musty quality of the room and the dirtiness of the structure as a whole managed to convince him of his place in reality.

Still, Misaki was there, and he couldn’t really ask for much more.

Saruhiko walked forward until he was directly in front of his boyfriend, and the redhead quirked an eyebrow. Saruhiko bent down, his body seated firmly between the other’s legs. Misaki noticeably tensed, hands coming up to clutch Saruhiko’s shoulders, either out of habit or anxiety. Maybe both.

“Wh-wh-what are you doi—”

“Don’t worry,” Saruhiko cut him off with a warmhearted tone, voice small, but holding enough power to completely captivate Misaki and silence any protests. He smiled, blue eyes shining affectionately, giving Misaki a look usually reserved for their own home. They were alone though, so it was fine. “It’s not what you think.”

He could see Misaki was still skeptical, but the vice grip on his shoulders slowly lessened, until it was gone. Misaki leaned back onto the bed, bracing his palms behind himself.

Good.

Saruhiko kissed Misaki’s knee, keeping his eyes looking upwards at his boyfriend. The sunlight shining through the bleak, torn curtains illuminated the other almost comically, like a stereotypical scene from a movie where the love interest was framed almost heavenly. Saruhiko nearly laughed at his own thoughts. Besides, Misaki didn’t exactly need the sun to look so incredible.

Ugh. What had happened to him?

Years ago, when they’d first met, it had taken Misaki’s everything to even get Saruhiko to open up as a friend, and admitting any feeling was a whole different endeavor entirely. Expressing those feelings openly…well, it had been a miracle. Saruhiko had grown, but even still, he was suspicious of everything. He had his close group of trustees, and Misaki. He couldn’t feel himself regretting any of it either.

“Misaki.”

“Huh?” Misaki’s eyes were half lidded, probably from both exhaustion and the calm atmosphere. Saruhiko shook his head. He’d just wanted to say it. Misaki grinned at him, the usual, loving soft grin Saruhiko often woke up to. He almost felt annoyed, since it would be another night at least before he could do such, but there was no use focusing on it now.

Saruhiko lifted up Misaki’s sweatshirt over the redhead’s abdomen, smiling again when he heard Misaki’s breath hitch a little. Saruhiko brushed a hand over the plane of soft skin in front of him, and Misaki’s knees jerked slightly. Ticklish, as usual.

Misaki’s abdomen was toned and muscled like the rest of him, but he of course still had his soft spots, places that tickled, places that were pinch-able and which allowed Saruhiko to nuzzle and bury his face in. Saruhiko knew every part of Misaki’s body, including where every scar and injury was located. Misaki had once tried to hide fresh wounds from him, but it was useless. If it hadn’t always been there, Saruhiko would notice.

There was a particularly nasty one on Misaki’s hipbone, barely healed from the last mission Misaki had performed weeks before. Saruhiko’s face scrunched up, trying not to let anger wash over him. This was the business they were in, worrying about each other constantly used to be an issue, and deep down, it still was. Misaki always scolded him though, saying to focus and make sure to make it home, and for three years, the advice had been enough for Saruhiko.

He kissed the scar, hot breath ghosting over it. Misaki tensed because, yeah, he’d found it.

Rather than let Misaki sputter useless excuses and let him go on about how he was fine, Saruhiko moved away from the scar, smoothing his thumb over the scar in a silent ‘I understand.’

Misaki’s face still was flooded with concern, but the redhead only sighed, bringing a hand up to thread his fingers through his boyfriend’s tangled hair, trying to flatten it out. Saruhiko rarely admitted it, but he loved this treatment. He often fell asleep in Misaki’s lap, the redhead running a hand through Saruhiko’s hair and soothing him into a sea of calm. It was especially helpful after stressful or exceedingly dangerous incidents, which, to Saruhiko’s dismay, made sleep hard. In fact, if this dingy building had been their home, he probably would’ve been half out already.

He wouldn’t pass out here though, not when he finally had a moment alone with Misaki. Saruhiko began to kiss all along Misaki’s stomach, purposefully making smacking sounds to emphasize each one. Misaki’s face was flushed, and he sighed happily, still petting Saruhiko’s hair. The redhead laughed every now and then too, the result of Saruhiko brushing over one of his more ticklish spots.

Saruhiko smirked as he continued to lazily kiss Misaki’s body, aware his actions were stupid and overly corny, but it was the most he could do in this situation.

“Saru, c-c’mon,” Misaki laughed quietly, trying to pull Saruhiko up onto the bed, probably longing for a real kiss. Saruhiko only nuzzled his face against Misaki, which caused Misaki to try pushing him more. “I-idiot stop! T-that—! Just get up here!” Misaki protested further, at this point lightly banging his fist against his boyfriend’s shoulder. The threats weren’t terribly effective though, considering they were broken up with the occasional snort. It was a noise Misaki rarely made, so the taller was reluctant to stop, but…

Misaki was trying to move his head now, fighting for the kiss he was being denied. Saruhiko would be all too happy to indulge, but looking at the bed had him clicking his tongue in annoyance. Misaki hummed in confusion before he looked too, becoming equally aggravated.

There was too much debris on the bed, cracked plaster and broken ceiling tiles littering what was once soft fabric, but the floor was mostly clear despite some sawdust. Never deterred for long, Misaki slid down, back against the edge of the bed, and Saruhiko leaned into his waiting arms automatically as soon as his body touched the ground.

Expecting a kiss, Saruhiko leaned in as much as he could…

He was met with a punch to the shoulder.

“Asshole!  You know I’m t-t-ti—”

“The word you’re looking for,” Saruhiko managed to interrupt with a strained voice, hand clutching his sore spot. “Is tick—”

“Fuck you!” Misaki scowled, looking towards the floor. “That’s not cool…”

Saruhiko was in Misaki’s face before he even uttered the last word, eyes half lidded and shining in the dimly lit room. Saruhiko heard Misaki inhale loudly, and the redhead’s arms came up instinctively to grab Saruhiko’s arms.

“What’s cool then, hm _Misaki_?” Saruhiko’s voice was barely above a whisper, but he heard Misaki sigh, a positive response.

Misaki didn’t respond with words, instead finally connecting their lips in a soft kiss. Saruhiko responded with enthusiasm, but still kept the kiss gentle. Their foreheads bumped together as Saruhiko sucked on Misaki’s bottom lip, and the taller grunted, only slightly annoyed from his clumsiness. The kiss was familiar, velvety and communicating every bottled up emotion from the past week. _I missed you. I love you._

Small, wet sounds were coming from their lips now, and, aware that his breathing was becoming a bit uneven, Saruhiko reluctantly pulled away for a split second. The pause didn’t last long, Misaki was chasing him again soon after, connecting their mouths again. The redhead slid his hands from Saruhiko’s arms to wrap around the taller’s waist. Saruhiko inched forward with the gesture, sighing into the kiss as he wrapped his own arms over Misaki’s shoulders.

The feeling of being entwined like this…he’d never get sick of it despite any doubts that would occasionally drift through his head. Old habits died hard, but he’d come to trust Misaki.

The redhead’s lips were a bit dry, and they moved roughly against Saruhiko’s, sometimes sticking together when the angle changed. It didn’t matter, if anything it was kind of amusing, and it made Saruhiko flick out his tongue to wet those lips he loved so much.

Misaki pushed him away slightly, stunned by the action. The redhead bit his lip, no doubt trying to calm the tickling sensation before he shot a half-hearted glare at his boyfriend.

_Heh._

Saruhiko was about to respond teasingly, but the look in Misaki’s eyes brought any quip he may have had to a screeching halt. Those amber pools were clouded with…love? Yes, he recognized that much. But, there was also evident longing, an ache of sorts which was being so openly communicated Saruhiko nearly choked.

Even worse, the taller speculated his eyes were saying the same thing back. He felt it too, those overwhelming senses of intense yearning.

_I…_

Not knowing what else to do, and knowing he couldn’t exactly say what he felt even after so many years, Saruhiko dropped his head into the crook of Misaki’s neck, kissing the skin there once before slumping forward, the tension in his body flooding out. He was tired, and Misaki’s warmth reminded him way too much of sleeping next to the smaller body.

Misaki’s hand came up to run a hand in Saruhiko’s hair again, and Saruhiko swallowed, trying to formulate the correct sentiment but only coming up with air, if that.

“I missed you too,” Misaki muttered above him, effectively cutting off all his efforts.

_How did you know? You used to be terrible at noticing._

Saruhiko felt lighter despite the heaviness of the fog of fatigue over him, and he smiled into Misaki’s neck. He clutched the redhead tighter, and they laid there, at peace despite the sounds of traffic outside and the questionable noises coming from the building’s old walls. Every now and then, Misaki would lift Saruhiko’s heavy head, checking to make sure he was still awake, and upon finding out, kissing him sweetly before allowing his boyfriend to slump back down.

The comfy atmosphere practically invited sleep, but Saruhiko did his best to resist, preferring to stay aware of Misaki’s presence for as long as possible. He’d be home in a couple of days but…he could never get enough of Misaki, it was as if he was addicted, but he saw no drawbacks to this drug. He breathed in the redhead’s scent once more, mouthing the skin of Misaki’s neck.

Saruhiko did his best not to groan in frustration when he felt his pda go off in one of his pockets. Misaki must’ve felt the vibration too, because the redhead tensed against him.

_Right, I was supposed to check in with Seri…_

She worried otherwise.

He moved to pull away, shaking off the waves of exhaustion he’d allowed himself to drown in. Misaki’s fingers tightened in the fabric of his t-shirt. It hadn’t been intentional it seemed, since the redhead gasped shortly after and released him. Saruhiko had to seriously refrain from just nestling himself back into those arms.

Misaki didn’t look angry, but Saruhiko could guess from the strain in his face that he was upset. Misaki was honestly such an open book, and in any other situation, the taller would scold the redhead for giving away his feelings so easily. It was dangerous in their line of work, but they were alone, so he guessed it was alright for now. Misaki glared at the floor, a hand brushing against Saruhiko’s knee, a silent reflection of the fact Misaki didn’t want the moment to end. The taller sighed, _me neither._ Saruhiko had never been good at offering comfort, but…

“The faster I write up the final report on this mission, I’ll come home,” Saruhiko explained, addressing Misaki’s unspoken disappointment in the most neutral way he could. Misaki hated feeling weak after all, though nowadays he allowed the feelings to come out in front of those close to him. Still, no use unnecessarily upsetting him.

“Y-yeah you’d better,” Misaki breathed out, looking Saruhiko over with scrutiny. “You seriously need a shower…and sleep.”

_How annoying._

“Whatever, those things weren’t important these past few days,” Saruhiko grumbled, finally standing up from their position on the floor. He’d honestly been too busy, and Misaki should’ve known the drill, given they’d both been on much longer missions.

“Tell that to your skin, it’s all rough and grimy,” Misaki replied with a light smirk. The smirk only grew when Saruhiko glared in response, the bags under his eyes adding to his menacing aura.

“You weren’t complaining just now,” Saruhiko mumbled with a childish kick to the molding floor.

“Yeah but, I haven’t seen you in a while,” Misaki said, smirk still in place. “Not even your shit hygiene was gonna stop me.”

_Oh shut up._

The air around them, though dusty, was drenched in comfort. Saruhiko nearly stepped towards Misaki when the redhead got up from the floor, but the sound of more police cars driving by down below was enough to keep himself grounded in reality. Misaki smiled at him sadly, but gestured towards the window adjacent to them anyways.

“Go on, get out,” Misaki said, voice soft. They shared one more hungry look, and the burn that came with it was enough to wake up Saruhiko completely, and he broke away.

As he leaned halfway out the window, already mapping out the quickest way to the roof without causing detection, he turned his head a bit, giving Misaki one last, determined grin.

“See you soon.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Comments are always appreciated! ^^  
> Twitter: itsloveuasshole  
> Tumblr: its-love-u-asshole


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